About a month ago, I quit my job. It wasn’t a fiery walk out or anything, but there were a lot of tears and sadness. I’d been there for almost 10 years, and they really were like my family in many ways.
The sadness was partly because I felt it was unavoidable. I have three young children, and between them all getting sick, me being sick, the usual life things I need time off for, and then school curriculum days and holidays.
I was away more than I was there. And that bothered me. I wasn’t giving it my best, and I wasn’t being my best there.
I had turned down many opportunities over the past 5 years for my children. I told them I was unavailable for travelling gigs, couldn’t take on more senior positions, and could only work part-time.
I gave up the management fast-track for the mummy track of part-time work and racing out the door to get to childcare on time.
I gave up the late nights, overtime, giving it everything I had.
Because, truthfully, my kids take everything I have from me. And I was almost empty.
I had to get out before I reached breaking point. Before it became a crisis that I couldn’t escape from.
In fairness to myself. To my family, and to my work. I couldn’t keep going with an empty tank and nothing to fill it.
I wish so much that I could do it all, be it all, run the world with a child on my hip. And perhaps I will. But not just yet. For now, I will be happy to take on more flexible work. I’ll do some writing and try and build my business and manage my time around my kids.
It breaks my heart to leave the job I love, but it would have broken more than my heart if I stayed.
Have you ever had to give up a job you love for your family? How did it work out?